


One Wing Was Clearly Broken

by i_am_still_bb



Series: Gathering FiKi - Drabble Challenges (2019 & 2020) [6]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - World War I, Drabble, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 17:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21461914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_still_bb/pseuds/i_am_still_bb
Summary: Written for Gathering FiKi's Drabble Challenge #2--Prompt: One wing was clearly broken--Mitchell meets Anders, a British fighter pilot.
Relationships: Anders Johnson/John Mitchell
Series: Gathering FiKi - Drabble Challenges (2019 & 2020) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1485650
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	One Wing Was Clearly Broken

On the radio this morning there had been news about a dogfight over the channel in a crisp accent. It all seemed very dramatic and exciting, but Mitchell was stuck here in Ireland on his farm, all because of his blood disorder, which apparently made him “unfit for duty.”

Mitchell looks out over the golden field, the brilliantly green grass, and the cool grey of the sea. Everything here seemed so far removed from the war. One could almost pretend that there was not a war going on; that boys in the village were not lying about their ages just so they could go to France and do their bit.

As he thinks he keeps walking and come to the top of a hill and he can see all the way down to the beach where the ocean continues its relent less pull on the sands, a sight that Mitchell has seen thousands of times, but it is not the same.

Half buried in the sand with a trail of debris marking its path of descent was a Beardmore WB III. One of its wings was clearly broken. Mitchell quickly scans the beach and he can see no signs that the pilot exited the craft. He drops his bag on the hill and descends to the beach. All the while warily watching the craft and wondering how likely it was that the craft actually belonged to a German spy. How exciting would that be?! The more rational part of his brain tells him the pilot is likely dead, based on the state of his plane.

The pilot is indeed still in the plane. His head lolls to the side, and dried blood covers the side of his face and makes his short blonde hair stand up. And he is clearly alive. The rise and fall of his chest is steady.

Mitchell shakes him. "Sir."

A groan answers him.

"Are you alright, sir?"

Another groan, but the pilot opens his eyes. He blinks slowly and looks around clearly confused about his location.

"You've crashed," Mitchell explains. "Are you hurt?"

The pilot starts to shake his head, but winces andbrings a hand up to support his head. "I don't think so," he says softly. His accent identifying him as someone from one of the colonies. He looks up at Mitchell and their eyes meet. Mitchell feels warmth bloom through his chest and his resulting smile cannot be contained. A weak, but answering smile appears on the face of the pilot.

"I'm John Mitchell."

"Anders."


End file.
